


Voltron's Mythical Petshop

by Halcyonranhuer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Animal Trafficking, Attempt at Humor, Bromance, Everyone else is a human, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ifrit Keith, Illegal Activities, Leviathan Lance, Mythical pet shop AU, Pegasus Allura, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, mythical creatures, shape shifting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-10-22 04:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halcyonranhuer/pseuds/Halcyonranhuer
Summary: Shiro, ex-Garrison soldier, should have known better than to accept a part-job from a shady old woman in a shady alley.





	1. Chapter 1

He should have known. One would think that working in the Garrison and their tendencies to issue their soldiers life-threatening missions would allow extra insight on life experiences. Yet this certain man by the name of Takashi Shirogane felt that he was still very much none the wiser even after years of digging trenches and gruelling combat on war-torn fields. He should have known even if he desperately needed money that job fliers randomly issued at an alleyway notorious for crimes and especially one by a strange old hag were going to have tasks somewhat set in the morally grey area.

Henceforth there he was, haversack slung on one shoulder and standing rigidly in front of a decrepit grey building located in the middle of a deserted street. The address messily scribbled on the yellow paper led him here, to a small abandoned town it seemed. He knew the place vaguely from a hazy memory.

The Garrison had wanted civilians to evacuate as it was ‘far too near a nuclear plant leaking radioactive waste’, though Shiro knew that it had more to do on political agreements with the Mafia Families than actual radiation leaks. The Garrison could care less about their people. Since then, the town had just been home to unfortunate refugees from the long wars- only praying that they did not get searched out by the Mafia goons.

Still, it was surprising that a shop was even opened here. After all, raids would occur so frequently with all the starving souls around. He took another look at the flier before lifting his head to get a clearer view of the building. Paint was flaking off its concrete walls, patches of brown stains plastered on chipped bricks, the pipes rusty and dislocated, groaning whenever water was pumped out of it.

It’s definitely here alright.

He sighed, running his hand through the locks of black hair. It was not like he had a choice anyways. No one in town would hire a handicapped like him, he had been told far too many times. At the memory, Shiro subconsciously flexed his prosthetic right arm.

_We have no need for handicaps in town! Now off with you!_

Perhaps that was why he willingly took the flier under the searching gaze of an old hag, who presented the paper to him by roughly thrusting into his way one day while he was out on a job search. Her white hair was dishevelled, her cloak dirty and unkempt. That was about what Shiro could make out of her. He could not see her eyes, hidden in the shadows despite knowing that they were scrutinising him. Though he did manage to catch a short glimpse of a strange eerie yellow glow under her hood.

Shiro took a sharp breath of musty air before pushing open the wooden door, ear-splitting creaks echoing the hallway, its hinges painfully begging to be oiled. Shiro was taken aback by the sight he was greeted with, its interior a far cry from its exterior. He looked around curiously as he made his way to the single table placed in the middle. There were marble statues, oriental ornaments and exquisite jewellery carefully set in glass containers, adorning the room. He then brushed the flat floor with his fingertips, curious to the bounciness of his steps and very surprisingly, feeling the sensation liking of a soft warm rug.

Shiro frowned, illusion magic perhaps? Yet he felt no hostility within these walls. Approaching the table, he had only a single piece of paper with a sentence and a quill pen set neatly.

**I hereby acknowledge to be an employee at Voltron.**

That was all to it. There were no statements of a fine pay or the paid vacations promised by the flier. Neither were there any details on his job scope or any indication of an interview. Instead, there was a fine print at the bottom of the paper which he had nearly missed. Shiro squinted his eyes to take a closer look at them.

**The Employer is not subjected to any form of responsibility over their employees.**

Shiro blinked. Whatever could that mean? He looked around warily again, it was as if the paper had been set up just for him. The characters were printed out in his native language. The Japanese language was no dying language. However, they were still very much the minority in this country, where English was the only common language here.

Strangely, Shiro felt obligated to sign the contract, suspicious as it was. Something within him said that this would make things right in his life for once. He paused, quill pen hovering as he narrowed his eyes.

Actually, there was nothing grand to his ‘revelation’. He just needed the damn money.

Take it or leave it. The pay was too enticing to resist, Shiro then scrawled his name on the paper without hesitation.

Like magic and by the universes- he thought magic was long gone in this time, a door appeared on what had supposedly had been an entire wall. He stood stunned in his position, not moving like any poor traumatised fresh Garrison soldier who just did his virgin kill. It might had been a while, because he saw the knob turning and the door opening to reveal a girl tapping her foot impatiently. 

“So, are you going to come in or not?”

* * *

Apparently, her name was Katie Holt, also a part-time employee of Voltron and fourteen human years of age. Immediate noticeable traits were her glasses, far too big for her face, perched on her freckled nose and coarse caramel-brown hair kept back in a messy ponytail. She donned a green dress, in which Shiro found it rather humorously ironic, as it was clearly designed to suit female grace rather than the rough-and-tumble tomboy. 

“Call me Pidge.” She had insisted, clearly very serious about it and Shiro obliged with no questions asked.

“So Shirogane-”

“Uh, just call me Shiro.” 

“Alright Shiro.” She repeated. “You do know what all this is about, right?”

Shiro rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Actually no.” He replied. “I wasn’t exactly provided details on the contract sheet and the job flier doesn’t state anything.”

Katie, or Pidge in this case, nearly doubled over as she squeaked exasperatedly. “Did you actually sign up for something you don’t even know what you have to do?”

“Jobs in the Garrison are quite like that.” Shiro chuckled lowly. Pidge hadn’t heard him and instead rambled on, groans rumbling at the back of her throat as she spoke.

“Did you flip to the back of the flier? Go to the bottom of the page?”

There was something at the bottom? Shiro quickly whipped out the paper and scanned it until he found a paragraph of fine print nicely snugged at the end of the sheet, in a corner where a wandering human eye would not even spy.

**This job entails an individual to provide proper care and a suitable habitat environment for pets arriving into Voltron.**

“It’s a pet shop and I am the pet shop employee.” Shiro said dumbly. Pidge raised her eyebrow as her eyes trailed and stopped at his prosthetic arm.

“Seriously? I think you would be smarter than that, considering that you seem to have your fair share on the two cents of life.”

“Please don’t tell me this is a smuggler’s treasure den for the black market.”

Pidge cocked her head to the side with a sort of unreadable expression and Shiro could only manage a small smile in reply.

“I supposed this is where you tell me it is too late to quit.” He said at last.

* * *

“Matt has to go to college now, so you be taking over his job. Mainly feeding from rooms 1 to 20- since lot of pets here do not need cleaning and grooming, other than a certain few. As for cleaning their cages, Coran’s in charge of it so you don’t have to worry too much.” Pidge explained as they stepped into another room, lights off after a long walk down a hallway. Seriously, how big is this place? Shiro remained in silent wonder as he followed the much smaller individual.

“I guess they are not your everyday dogs and cats then.”

“Nope.” Pidge replied before pausing abruptly and swerving on her heels to face him. “Wait, did you seriously think they’re all dogs and cats?”

“I was hoping we’re just dealing with the rarer species, but I guess they are other creatures in the mix.” Shiro tried to make out something in the darkness.

“Other creatures, yeah, like Gremlins.”  She flicked on the light and suddenly piercing shrieks filled the room. Shiro’s eyes nearly budged out of their sockets as he watched the furry critters chattering behind glass panes. One in every container, all in different shapes and colours of all variations- perhaps the distinction of the various species. Still, they were no bigger than two human palms together. “You know Gremlins, do you?”

Shiro couldn’t reply, very much tongue-tied. Of course he knew about the Gremlins. Anyone would know about the incident involving them wiping and gutting out several families due to poor care of these strange creatures. They were banned by the government about two decades ago.

Pidge continued her speech nevertheless. “So, you usually start the day by feeding the Gremlins and there are three important rules concerning these creatures. One, do not expose them to bright lights or sunlight, it will kill them instantly. Oh, these lights are fine since they are all LED. Two, do not let them get wet or we’ll have a serious birth control situation. Three, never feed them after midnight- but this usually applies to our customers mainly. We only feed them once a day at nine, which is like now.” 

Pidge demonstrated the feeding by pouring a sack of brown-like biscuits into a large funnel located at the top corner of the room, which dispensed the food evenly into each of the Gremlin’s cages. “Here.” She clapped and then rubbed her hands together. “It’s that easy.”   

He looked at her flabbergasted and then took the bag (which Pidge had pulled out earlier from a cabinet) slowly.

“Uh Shiro, could you hurry? We don’t have all day, you know?” She called out and the man gulped, before following her actions. He listened to the hard clattering of the food on dish panes and the greedy gobbling noises.

“We’re done.” Pidge said at last. “Come down, I’m going to have to dim the lights.”

Perhaps he might have been too hopeful to think that Gremlins were the only mythical creatures that Voltron was dealing with. He was then brought to rooms containing Jackalopes and Flower Dragons.  Nothing too dangerous, they were all herbivores and were surprisingly gentle to the touch. Flowers and herbs stored in the cupboards in the room were their meals. Nothing hard to remember either.  

As for the feeding timings, Matt (he had soon learnt that the boy in question was Pidge’s elder brother) had helpfully compiled a timetable for him to adhere to. He even did a guide on their feeding habits, not that Shiro was entirely clueless, the education from the Garrison were doing their wonders now.

After Pidge closed the tenth door to a room full of dancing faeries, Shiro finally muttered, his eyes staring ahead blankly as if he had finally come into some form of enlightenment (or a conclusion for the matter). “There are no dogs and cats here.”

“There are _no_ dogs and cats here.” Pidge affirmed his statements. “Voltron’s a very… special pet shop.” Shiro still gave his ever cover-boy poster smile as a reply to her statements. Somehow, he wondered why that five-digit figure did not seem so appealing anymore.

“Oh Pidge!” A shrill voice called out to the girl. They turned and Shiro saw a middle-aged man waving back at them. The first thing he noted about the man was the unnatural flounce of an unnaturally big moustache.

“Dearie me! Is that the new employee?” Shiro had first thoughts to be wary and suspicious, but the other seemed genuinely excited.

“Yup, he’s called Shiro.” Pidge gestured towards the taller man as he offered his hand as a greeting. “Shiro, this is Coran. He does the cleaning here and he’s also Allura’s caretaker.”

Allura? However, his train of thought was cut off by Coran’s loud voice.

“Nice to meet you, Shiro! We have been worried we couldn’t find a replacement since Matt left but you came!” Coran gripped his hand a little too enthusiastically, before drawing him into a bear-crushing hug. The smaller man was deceptively and ridiculously strong, Shiro thought as he felt air being squeezed out of his lungs.

Pidge noticed his little shock and offhandedly commented that was why Coran did the cleaning around here.

* * *

Somehow Coran assumed Pidge’s role and started doing the various introductions for the remainder of the rooms. Pidge didn’t seem to mind anyway and tagged along behind.

 “Cocktrices have a nasty bite, but their eggs are great. Great properties of healing and providing good skin- collagen, was it?  Anyway! Customers usually come for their eggs rather than the animal itself.” Coran petted Shiro’s right arm and then went to shift it about. “That is when a prosthetic arm would be entirely handy!”

 “They are surprisingly small.” Shiro then stated, somewhat having finally accepted that there were only mythical creatures in Voltron’s pet shop.

_It was not as if mythical creatures were top on the list for animal smuggling. Death penalty, the government dictated._

“Yes! Yes! But we don’t want to underestimate them do we! An employee did die from having his eyes pecked out by them!”

Shiro did not try and explore the gruesome details, neither did he probed further. Whatever knowledge now had sufficed him entirely.

Rooms 15 to 20 were the dangerous ones; the rooms were all ridiculously big in size and had housed more ‘daunting’ creatures. Pidge and Coran both told him twice that he had to be extra cautious in there. From Nagas to Griffins, Wyverns, Harpies, Ceberoses and even Chimeras (Shiro really didn’t understand the consumers’ tastes by now, like what was with keeping gigantic, multi-headed carnivores as pets? Was it an aristocratic trend?), feeding must be done swiftly.

These creatures were all kept in their special habitat cages below them. Shiro tried not to look at a Naga flicking its tongue aggressively and flexing its crest scales. The only safety net preventing them from falling into the pits of hell (literally, there were fire salamanders at another side) was the metal suspension bridge they walked on. Even so, Shiro suspected that it wasn’t exactly very steady with it swinging lazily on his every step. 

“These are shadow Ghouls. They can hide in your shadows and kill you when you’re not looking- we basically don’t turn on the lights when we feed them.” Coran pointed to a black pane right at the other end of the bridge. On first inspection, it seemed like a huge slab of dark stone. However, on further scrutiny, Shiro saw the swirls of dark tendrils hissing behind the glass.

“Good thing they don’t need food so often. When the time comes, I’ll show you how you can feed them.”  Coran continued with his talk, walking back to where they first entered. Shiro casted one last look at the shadow Ghouls wearily.

Somehow, he figured that not all the pets here actually functioned as furry cute house-pets. Not to mention, he also got a more thorough understanding from the employer’s ‘no responsibility on workers’ wellbeing’ standpoint.

“It’s pretty simple. I think I can manage.” Shiro said, upon reaching the end of his trainee tour. “Though, that is all I have to do?”

“For now.” Pidge said and Coran nodded.

“By the way, has anyone quit this job before?” Pidge raised her eyebrows, somewhat surprised that Shiro’s still hung up over this “moral debate”

(She really didn’t understand. Wasn’t he ex-Garrison? She was quite sure the Garrisons’ main moral code consisted of mainly decapitations, disembowelment, destruction of properties and lying to the civilians.)  

while Coran looked at him quizzically.

“No. Matt’s the first who’s left and he’s coming back.” Pidge finally said after a while, pushing her glasses up the ridges of her nose.

“What about the other employees?”

He saw the faces the duo made and then immediately slapped himself mentally, he shouldn’t even have asked.

“Let’s just say… they have less desirable accidents… which somehow became fatal…?” Coran rubbed his moustache nervously. “It is okay, most do live through a few months!”

Shiro wondered why he never bothered about getting life insurances up till now. 

"...Life insurance companies don't cover accidents over here. That's why the pay is high." Pidge added, after Coran said something else Shiro didn't quite catch.

Well, he guessed he would have to settle for a bucket list then. 

* * *

His first week was merely the routine of his first day, actions after actions repeated. Though he did get to feed the shadow Ghouls and the Griffins. Speaking of which, one of the half-eagle monsters which Shiro decided to ‘affectionately’ name Pip, nearly ripped off his only good arm. The man would never make the mistake of feeding anything in room 17 by hand again.

Why, Shiro thought he would talk to Coran and his constant misplacement of the feeding sticks.

He also liked to think that Pip had probably thought Shiro’s arm was merely an extension of its meal, even if that feral glint in its eyes didn’t really reflect its supposed cluelessness. Then again, everything in that room wanted to eat him.

But Shiro always promised he wouldn’t judge others on first sight.

The man was starting to get lost deeper in his thoughts as he made his way out from Room 20, free from finishing his last task of feeding the Chimeras.

Pidge and Coran were good people, despite their very quirky personalities. Judging by the way Pidge talked about her brother and the very detailed handbooks, Matt should also be a great person by nature.

There was also this one friendly big boy by the name of Hunk, not much older than Pidge. The lad said that he was seventeen. Hunk was the food deliverer, coming every other day. Shiro did not see him very much however, the other disappearing off to somewhere the moment he filled the required cabinets. All he knew about the boy was that he always wore a yellow band on his forehead, had muscles jammed beneath dark skin  and the only five minutes of first greetings he had with him.

Anyway, Shiro could not wrap his head around how these people came to be as part-time employees here. Not to mention, he still hadn’t figured what Pidge actually did in Voltron. She was definitely an important employee for sure, judging by her supervising and training him whenever Coran was not around.

He spotted Hunk at the corner of the corridor, perspiration clumping his black locks together as he lifted several white bags. Grease stains were seen on his white apron and his boots were thick with mud. From the looks of it, Hunk must had travelled from somewhere really far.

“Here, let me help.” Shiro quickly offered, pushing away his initial thoughts.

“Oh thank you, Shiro!” Hunk gave a toothy grin. “I’ll give you one my Moma’s Tarts as thanks later! They’re really good.”

“No… it is only natural. Why are there so many bags anyway?” Shiro inquired, curiously lifting the bag up and peering into it. A fresh fragrance wafted into his nose.

Food, but not the raw kinds those mythical creatures get. It was cooked. “Smells great.” He said and Hunk beamed.

“Awesome! It’s my new recipe and adding spices really brings out the smell so much more!” He laughed before gazing over at Shiro with concern. “I hope it’s not too heavy? Your arm...?”

“Oh? This little guy can take more than a few containers.”

“Alright.” Hunk’s expression relaxed. “Oh! To answer your question, I was making meals for Lance and Allura. Someone’s coming soon as well, so Pidge asked me to cook up a bigger serving. I can’t wait to meet them.”

Lance? Who was that? Shiro scrunched up his eyebrows.

Allura, the name, however did ring a bell. He had caught Coran mentioning them a few times, yet the older man never really revealed who this enigma was. Seeing Shiro’s frown, Hunk quickly spoke up. “Wait, they didn’t tell you about Lance and Allura?”

“No…”

As soon as Shiro said that, he found himself standing at the doorway of a room which he was never introduced to. Hunk suddenly dropped on his bags to the ground and hastily dislodged the bags from Shiro’s grip. “Well then you should leave this room quickly, I mean I don’t want you to get in trouble. Especially when Lance-”

_Thump!_

Shiro noted how Hunk’s eyes became comedically wide and tilted his head to try and gain view behind his large body. He still couldn’t see anything however, other than an enormous blue aquarium tank mounted onto the walls. Then he heard a series of clicking noises and coos, before Shiro made out proper language.

“Hunk, who’s that?”

Hunk swerved around quickly to address the other. “Uhh…”   

Shiro nearly fell over in shock when he saw the creature behind the glass. “A… A mermaid…?”  

There was a short silence before a sharp shrill voice burst into his eardrums.

“How ruuude!”

Shiro was harshly snapped out from his temporal reverie and he rushed to cover his ears, gritting his teeth in the process. It stopped fast, thankfully and he then watched the mythical creature quietly. Swimming about in the tank- half man, half fish, swiftest description Shiro could offer- it bore its shark-like teeth, canines tough and glistening, as it shifted closer to him or as much as the tank allowed it to. He shuddered at its feline-like pupils, inquisitive, annoyed and deep blue.

“Lance! Lower your pitch and your voice! It’s hurting our ears.” Hunk winced, shifting its attention away from Shiro. Hunk too, had his ears covered with his hands, in which the process had caused him to drop the bags of food. Lance, the water creature, looked to the containers that had fell out and then stared at Hunk seemingly accusingly. Hunk just shrugged. “Plus because of that, you kinda ruined lunch.”

Lance flattened its ears against its head, then clicked its tongue irritably before doing a lazy loop in the water. “Strange two-legs over there called me a mermaid! I am nothing like those vile man-eating _monsters_. Not to mention, mermaids are females. I am maleeee!” He whined, tail fin slapping against the glass.

“Right, sorry. My bad.” Shiro coughed. Now that he had a proper view of Lance, he saw the flurries of colours. An amazing blend of a warm to cool gradient- mainly they were gorgeous shades of blue; azure, sapphire and even turquoise- the creature had to offer on its scales as compared to the well-known plain grey of mermaids. It was then he realised something more so appalling.

“Wait, you talk?”

“Of course I do!” Lance clearly looked more offended than ever, evident from his scales puffing up. They actually looked as sharp as his teeth when brandished.

“Erm, then you’re a siren then?” Shiro guessed. He knew Sirens had well-endowed body solely for killing and a heavenly voice to lure, a fearsome underwater predator.

Apparently, he was still wrong. Lance flexed his fins even more and Shiro could see them growing stiff on his arms, hips and tail. His translucent tail fin also appeared much bigger now. The creature pressed a webbed hand against the glass and Shiro bit his lip from seeing how dangerously equipped they were.

“I am not a siren! Sirens don’t talk, they only mimic the voices of humans.” Lance grumbled. “Besides, they don’t have these.”

He then unfurled bigger fins on his, their sizes more than half of Lance’s body. They looked like a mixture between the wings of the Faeries’ and Wyverns and had ribbon-like appendages at the tips, somewhat similar to the fins of a lion fish’s- not that Shiro was going to mention that, he wouldn’t want to tear the final straw keeping Lance from leaping out and doing horrific things to him. 

“I am sorry. I am not well-read on water creatures.” Shiro decided to opt for this answer instead. Lance huffed and small bubbles rushed from the silts on his neck.

“I. Am. A. Leviathan.” He hissed and whipped his tail at the glass tank, causing Shiro to flinch a little.

Hunk quickly ran in front of Shiro and pulled him behind as the man remained stunned by the revelation. “Lance, be nice! Shiro’s new here and-”

“I don’t understand why would they employ someone who knows nothing about us.” Lance narrowed his eyes as spoke, his tone in varying degrees, making sounds as if he was screeching rather than talking.

“He knows about me?” Shiro pointed to himself as he asked Hunk.

Lance interrupted before the other could reply. “Of course, I knew that someone like you would be coming ever since Matt left! I think that Pidge’s finally gone maaad or something to actually agree to this guy as a worker.”

“I heard that.” Came an all too familiar voice at the doorway, Shiro spotted Pidge standing there, looking rather grim.

“It’s truueeee!” Lance whistled. His voice was still a few pitches higher but it wasn’t as bad as the first time.

“It’s true that there’ll be no lunches for you.” Pidge snorted and Lance stared at her for a second or so, stuck out his tongue before he swam behind the rocks away from sight.

Meanwhile Hunk was apologising profusely to the girl. He was bending so low; his knees were nearly touching the ground. Shiro thought that the boy would actually kowtow and headed over to stop him when Pidge once again did her dismissive wave.

“It’s fine. Shiro needs to know about them soon enough.” She muttered. “Just get the Harpies' food to Coran first, leave Allura and Lance’s here.”

Hunk nodded and before he left the room, he turned to Shiro worriedly. “Look, Lance is not a bad guy. He just needs a little time to adjust to newer surroundings. He’s actually really nice.”

Shiro chuckled. “I’m not particularly angry or anything. He did startle me a little. Still, whatever he said wasn’t wrong.”

Hunk frowned but then quickly lit up as he pulled out a wrapped package from his coat and shoved it into Shiro’s hands.

“Here. My Moma’s heavenly tart, as thanks and sorry for the trouble. I’ll make sure to give you a cinnamon roll the next time I am over.” He stuttered, before giving a sheepish smile and headed down on his way.

Shiro then turned to Pidge who was flipping over some notes on a clipboard.

“Oh yeah, about Lance and Allura.” Pidge started, rubbing her temple. “I didn’t introduce you to them at first because Lance’s still little frisky and Allura had a cold earlier. Allura’s all better now but Lance, well you saw what happened.”

Pidge saw the expression on Shiro’s face and continued. “Your actual job is to provide care for these kinds of extremely endangered and intelligent species. Honestly I see them no different from Humans, the categories for Mythical Creatures are so vague. Anyway, from your looks, I guess you do know that Leviathans were supposedly extinct like tons-of-years-ago. Well, ‘supposedly’ is the key word here if you hadn’t guessed by now.”

Shiro remained silent as he picked up and placed the bags on the table. “Only one of these creatures to a chosen employee of Voltron. Part-time employees usually don’t do this, you know? You are rather lucky.” She smiled as she hopped onto a table.  

“So, Coran’s with Allura, I’ll be with…” His eyes trailed to the tank. “…Lance? I guess.”

“Nope.”

“Huh?”

“You’re going to be with someone else.” Pidge said as she handed him the white bags. “Besides, you can’t just force your way into a bond. It has to be in a way, build it from scratch. Plus, Lance has quite a personality. Anyway, our third resident in this special room will soon come. _He_ will be in your charge.”

Shiro blinked in confusion as Pidge clicked her tongue.

“Never mind, you’ll understand soon. Just take the bags and go introduce yourself to Allura. She’s much tamer I guarantee you and doesn’t mind anyone coming into her compounds. Just don’t step on the flowers.”    

* * *

Allura’s cage was spacious, filled with the fragrance of many flora and the dancing rays of little white lights, a vast contrast to the dull cages he had seen so much in the week. He didn’t see her at first sight and after waiting for a bit, he decided to enter the cage. Careful and wary, he slowly pushed open the glass-like doors and stepped onto lush fresh grass resembling from a spring pasture in the North. He called her out, but there was still no reply. So Shiro tried to trudge in further.

“Take care not to step on those Daffodils.” A voice suddenly echoed in the distance. Shiro abruptly came to halt, looked around and then looked down, seeing a couple of yellow flowers in front of him, his foot dumbly dangling above them.

“Ah, I apologise!” He quickly hopped back with his one foot, but slipped and fell. He heard a giggle and then the sound of hooves.

“A horse?” He wondered out loud, rubbing his back as he sat up. Hopefully, Allura’s lunch wasn’t too ruined.

“Close enough. A Pegasus.” He felt a breath behind his head and immediately turned around to come to face to white creature, lovely silver mane braided falling neatly on her neck.

“A-Allura? I presume.” Shiro stuttered, a little lost for words.

“Hm-hm. You are new employee?”

“Yes. Call me Shiro.”

“Shiro. That’s a nice name.” She blinked as she stretched her wings. Shiro stared in awe at the pure white, not a single bit of blemish. Some of her feathers fell and he caught one in his palm, before stroking it over with his finger. They were soft. “White in Japanese, isn’t it? I like it.” She said.

He flushed for a moment. Though Shiro wasn’t entirely sure if his ‘Shiro’ was written with the kanji character white, he would like to think that it had been so.

“Thank you. And Allura is uh… such an alluring name!”

Allura stared at him before laughing very hard, her tail (which was also braided and silver) swishing around. “You are very interesting!”

“I guess.” Shiro had turned to a deeper shade of red, before twiddling his thumbs a little and then smiling. “I didn’t know Pegasi were pretty fun to talk to.”

“Not all, only me. I am of a certain evolved Pegasi species- well, that is how the humans put it-” She remained strangely quiet for a minute, before flapping her wings again. “We can shape-shift.”

The shift happened so quickly, Shiro just saw a rush of feathers. The moment they dispersed, a lady in a white dress stood in the place of the Pegasus. She then walked up to him gracefully with tiny steps, just like any elegant aristocratic lady. Her eyes still seemed to sparkle the same way however, with the various shades of the rainbow.

“I guess, it is my lunch here.” She said, pointing to the bags on the ground and Shiro took a step back out of embarrassment.

“Yup- sorry if it’s a little messed, it kinda got dropped twice.”   

“Oh, whatever happened during the first-?”

“SHIRO! Don’t let me catch you flirting with Lady Allura!” Coran suddenly burst through the entrance, a feather-duster in one hand and a cloth in the other.

“I was just delivering food!” Shiro yelped as Coran stomped up to him. He never thought how sticks and cloth could be so threatening until now and especially when they are lodged in Coran’s hands. He did overhear Pidge complaining to Coran about his over-protectiveness towards Allura and how he had to change his attitude over this soon. Shiro didn’t think too much of it. Now, he had the honors of experiencing it first- hand.

“Hmm…” Coran narrowed his eyes as if disbelieving and before he could say anything, Shiro nodded at Allura, who returned the gesture and then quickly scampered out of the room.  

He really needed a break. The events today had transpired far too quickly for his own good.

* * *

He didn’t know what led him to decide to have a short break in front of Lance’s tank, perhaps it was droning of the generators running the filters or the relaxing view of the imitation sea. Maybe it was the dull blue lights that calmed the pounding in his head down a little. Regardless, Shiro decided to unwrap the package Hunk had given him early.

By the universes, it smelt heavenly.

He was about to take a bite, when he heard a rough motion behind him. Shiro turned and nearly scooted away in fright when he saw Lance pressing his face against the screen, just a little over his shoulder. The Leviathan looked at him with a sort of indescribable expression, swished back and forth, before leaning in nearer again.

“Um Um… Is that Hunk’s Moma Tart?” This time round, his voice was lower, shyer if Shiro would add.

“Uh, yes. He gave it to me.” Shiro replied, somewhat still expectant of a hiss or an ugly eye.

Lance didn’t do anything indicating aggression, but just looped around in the water. Shiro thought he would make a conversation- at least, he could say he tried at the end of the day.

“So erm, how’s the lunch Hunk made for you?”

“I didn’t have lunch. Pidge didn’t wanna give it to me.” Lance clicked his teeth. He seemed annoyed.

_Oh, yes. What a great conversation starter. Well done, Shiro, especially when you were the one who indirectly brought it onto him._

“Oh. Sorry about that.” Shiro mumbled softly as he mentally chastised himself. The Leviathan probably didn’t hear him, seeing as how he went to pick up some makeshift shells instead. He then watched quietly Lance poked playfully at another jellyfish.  

“Hey, do you want this tart?”

At the mention of the sentence, he saw Lance’s ears perked up and twitching. His eyes were sparkling as he met Shiro’s amused gaze, fins all puffed up the same. “You will give it to meeee?” He sang.

“Of course. You seem to appreciate it more of a great deal than I do.” Shiro chuckled, Lance seemed much less like the rumoured Devil of the Seas or the harbinger of many catastrophes or the embodiment of the sin Envy, but rather more like a child.

“Come up! Come up!” Lance squeaked excitedly, doing lots of twirling as he said. Shiro then spotted a ladder hidden cleverly against the wall and proceeded to make his way up. He saw a metal platform and what seemed to be a mini library was at its furthest corner, with many books scattered about and some dusty cushions propped against the wall.

He then heard a noisy splash and saw Lance propping himself up on the ledge. "Uhm, the tart?" He inquired, bouncing a little as he said. 

“Here.” Shiro went towards him and gave him the pastry. Lance grabbed the goodie gingerly, careful not to wet it as it sat snugly in his claws. They were silent for a few seconds or so, before Lance broke the silence. 

“Sorry about that.”

“Huh?” Shiro was slightly confused.

“I was mean to you earlier. You’re actually… quite nice.” Lance nervously flicked his tail. He hadn’t bitten into his treat yet. “I just didn’t want someone stupid to replace Matt. Hehe, you’re not stupid at all, Shirooo.”

“It’s alright.” Shiro smiled. “Matt must have meant a lot to you, I understand.”

“Yeah, he would sit up here and read with me all the time.” Lance grinned. Suddenly, there was a loud rumbling and the older man blushed heavily as he cupped his abdomen.

“I apologise… for that.”

Lance burst out laughing instead. “You didn’t eat too, I guess?”

He then broke the tart into two before the man could reply. “Goood thing I didn’t gobble it all up first! Now you won’t have to gooo hungry alone!”

Shiro smiled and accepted the other half the tart graciously.

He should have known this. He should have known that.

Still, perhaps working here wasn’t all too bad after all.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Keith.

Serving the Garrison would hone one’s insensitivity to gruesome images. After all, with blood splatters and organs lying about like a cheap slasher film gone wrong from the battlefields, one would gain some form of immunity what might be described as gut-churning.

Of course, he should have known better. He should have known, always should have known, so many things he should have known better. Perhaps it was true that kids with advices tended to fare better in life.  He never had a mother and the times with his grandmother was spanned pathetic but just enough to remember her kindly old face. Still, Shiro learned many things the hard way.

For Lance today was proudly brandishing what seemed to be a giant clam or at least some form of organism closest in resemblance to it, because Shiro knew that was not a clam. It was nothing like clam, with that black slimy mass of writhing tentacles and many, many holes the size of a berry that oozed out bloody liquids when Lance had gingerly pried the spikey shell open. Still, he rather opted it as a ‘clam’, for it was far too incomprehensible to define otherwise in his very human mind. 

The Leviathan said something about it being delicious and a delicacy, but Shiro couldn’t register his words. The man’s eyes were fixated at the thing’s middle, which seemed like pulsating human intestines.  

“I was lucky to find thiss. I don’t understand what Pidge’s saying, but I get it from Matt it is difficult to put them in my tank. So, I’ve always needed to wait for them to grow. It’s not their season now but I fooound one just before Shiroo came!” Lance clicked his tongue excitedly. “Shirooo must have a loooot of gooood luck!”

Somewhere along the way while Shiro was fathoming how that meant good luck, Lance had just plopped the thing into this mouth oh-so-casually. The man gagged and cringed at the sounds of the cracking shell, slurping mess and the sharp dying shrieks of the creature.

By the heavens, he didn’t know dying look-alike-monster-clams could make such a noise.

“Shiro, do you not like it?” Lance asked as he licked his claws, a grimy red trailing down between his webbed fingers. His tail splashed in the water as his fins stiffened to raise from the side of his arms, ears and back.

Over the course of the few days he spent with the Leviathan, he had come to learn that this action not only meant aggression but expressing interest. Pidge did mention to him about the different angles on how waterfolk or water-based mythical creatures raised their fins to indicate their moods, but Shiro figured he would prefer if he used his instincts to figure out how these creatures were feeling. It felt more natural that way.

“Uhm, well. It is not my cup of tea.” Shiro managed a smile. Oh, he really hoped he hadn’t offended Lance. It was just that some tastes were too abstract for his human mind to comprehend.

Much to his surprise, Lance did a back-flip into his pool and guffawed loudly.

“It’s okaaay, Shirooo.” He cooed. “I can smell that you don’t like it.”

“Oh, uhm, sorry about that.” Shiro frowned, not knowing what to say.

“You’re very nice, Shiroo!” Lance squeaked and made a series of incomprehensible excited chatters before continuing. “Everyone usually backs away from it. Even Matt. He ran off the first time when I showed it to him. You’re very nice to stay Shiroo!”

Oh, so he could have run away and Lance wouldn’t be disappointed to say the least. Still, he didn’t mind to sacrifice his appetite for lunch to appease the young creature.  

“Shiro!” The man then turned to see Pidge waving at him below and then Lance smiling before disappearing into the water.

“Yes? Uh, I didn’t leave the lights on in the Gremlin’s room, did I? And I am quite sure I have fed Pip this morning.” Shiro rambled as Pidge cocked her head to the side.

“No and who’s Pip anyway?” She questioned, yet seemed not too interested when Shiro mumbled out his answer. “Anyway.  You do know the third resident of this special room I’ve told you about?”  

“Yes-”

“Right.” Pidge said, leaving no room for Shiro to answer. “We’ve gotta pick him up tonight at the docks.”

Shiro hadn’t found his reply even when Pidge patted him on the shoulder and exited the room.

* * *

“It’s a very secretive affair. Do it quick. The security droids pass their rounds every fifteen minutes. Oh- perhaps you thought fifteen minutes is a hell a lot of time to run back and forth, but no mind you, they also patrol all corners, nooks and crannies. Your safest route to the cargo has like thirty- eight of them set in motion.” Pidge rambled on.

“Yes. Pidge.” Shiro called out louder to grab the girl’s attention.

“What? I thought I briefed you already. Are there any parts you are unsure? Our clients are Korean. Just go Ahnenangseyong or somethin’. More importantly, the package stays safe.”

“No, why am I doing this alone?” Shiro said as loudly as he could against the earpiece. The inside of his gloves was most probably clammy and his hands ice cold, despite the early summer.

“Alone? You have Coran with you, no?”

“Coran?” Shiro shifted to face the older man with a wary eye who was trying to do some… stretches if that odd body posture meant anything at all. He had gone all out with the suspicious full body black tight suit and black goggles. Apparently, Coran mentioned about them being a size too small and eBay being entirely unreliable.

On the other hand, Shiro had just donned a black t-shirt, loose trousers (the ones the Garrison issued their soldiers with) and heavy boots- a desert kind of guerrilla outfit- easy for manoeuvring in rougher terrains. “Well, I suppose- I mean we might need backup.”

“Hey I am very experienced in this field.” Coran wriggled a finger in Shiro’s face as he lifted an eyebrow. Shiro still managed a smile when he saw him tripping on his feet and tumbling face-first onto the ground.

Pidge snorted on the other end. “Well, I admit it. Don’t rely on Coran too much. He’s only ever had shipping procedures done with Allura and that’s because Lotor directly brought her to our place.”

Lotor?

Pidge cut off his thoughts quickly. “Anyway, aren’t you ex-Garrison?”

“Yes.” Shiro coughed.

“Garrison members don’t have backup plan- it’s do or die, right?”

“Well, yes-”

“Great, then this should like psh, elementary class for you.”

The natures of Garrison missions are very different for the universe’s sake, Pidge! Shiro wanted to cry out but she ended the line with a ‘we’ll start at 0100 hours.’.   

Hence at 0100 hours, Shiro leapt off the platform and onto a container gracefully while Coran landed onto the concrete floor.

“Just the old bones!” He croaked as he pushed himself off the ground slowly and then cracked his back when he stood up. “I’ll have you to know that I was once a very capable scout- spy!”

**Crack!**

“Um, Coran…”

“Just go ahead without me, Shiro. I’ll stay here for a bit!” Coran stretched his back again as Shiro cringed when he heard another unearthly crack.

While pondering if Coran was actually human (especially if he survived such a fall with all bones intact), Shiro took a deep breath before he looked over to see two droids patrolling ahead. That model was rather familiar, Shiro recalled seeing a few of those in the Garrison, guarding the higher-ups.

“Pidge.” He whispered into his headpiece. “Are all the security droids of the same model?”

“Let me do a thorough scan- oh yes, they all are.”

“Good.” Shiro replied as he eyed his route. It made things much easier in a way. The droids all followed the same programme coding- in short, they were all timed in the same manner. Tapping his finger, Shiro quietly navigated and slipped his way to the destination quickly.

Two burly looking men greeted him and the ex-Garrison wasn’t sure if he should knock them unconscious or if they were the transporters. The area was dark and he couldn’t make out any distinguishable features amongst them. It was after a few seconds when one of them said something that Shiro didn’t quite understand. He was only contemplating about that awful greeting he learnt earlier when luckily, Pidge came onto the receiver.

“Just show them your workers ID- the one we issued to you. Just don’t be stupid and accidentally handover your Garrison’s ID- they’ll shoot you.”

Shiro gulped as he presented his ID after making sure that it was the correct one twice, before one of the two roughly swiped it away from him and made a grunting noise with a cock of his head. Immediately, a large metallic box (supposedly as it glistened under the single streetlights) enough to fit a sizable human with multiple holes jammed at the top was carted into view.

“All yours.” They said in English as they loaded the box carelessly, it rolled over the ground with a loud thump. “Careful. Burns bad.”

They then cackled like supervillains as Shiro watched them receded into the shadows. He thought he saw the box shaking violently, flames spewing from the holes and quickly took a few steps away from it, wide eyes never leaving it.

“Is it a thing of you to keep staring into space?” Pidge’s shrill voice jolted him from his momentarily shock. “Your fifteen minutes is almost up. Hurry.”

Now it was going to be an issue to transport the box-

He heard the loud screech of tires and roving engines, the smell of leaking oils and smoke assaulted his vision. Shiro’s hand quickly found its way to his belt where a dagger was cleverly hidden in its folds.

“Coran is here! I managed to bribe one of the ship guys for loaning a cart-puller. Now we can pretend to be loading off cartons!” He then saw the man waving enthusiastically in what seemed to be in a sailor’s outfit. Shiro smiled in relief as he proceeded to move away as Coran lifted the large box with the machine. “Sorry I took so long. I couldn’t understand whatever language they were spewing and that the body tight suit took forever to get out off.”

The box moved roughly again once more, cutting both their conversations off as it nearly tumbled off the cart.

“That’s a feisty one alright.” Coran commented as he tugged his moustache lightly. Shiro still held his expression with a straight face, not sure whether to smile or be worried.

* * *

Unboxing therapy.

It was something on the internat these days, Shiro recalled, to help relaxation it seemed. The metal wrench in his palms felt like plastic as he saw the box shook violently once more, rolling wildly around the room. It made a strangled cry, almost equivalent to the banshees’.

(They say that the voices of banshees can rip your eardrums.)

Shiro instinctively shuddered. Obviously, nothing in Voltron would be therapy. Perhaps PTSD but never therapy… His thoughts were scrambled as he heard Pidge making her way into the room.

“You know Shiro, you have been sitting there for the last twenty minutes? I gave you a wrench so you can open the box? Not stare at it like some modern art.” She frowned, her eyes looking down at the kneeling man. Times like these, Shiro felt as if he was brought down to a dumb three-year old.

“It moves a lot.” His tongue was slightly dry and really, Shiro did not know how to explain this situation in proper.

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Of course, it moves. It’s alive and all cooped up in a box. No free creature likes being cooped up in a box. That is why I gave you a wrench to open it.”

Yes! Shiro bit his lip. It also happens to breathe fire and appears to be unnecessarily violent. He did not mention however, Pidge was going to dismiss his concerns regardless.

“Right.” He nodded. It took all his courage to plunge the metal into the small nook of the box.    

Then, there was a loud screech as something nearly clawed his face. Thoughts crashed into his mind like a train wreck and Shiro thought that this might not be all that different at all.

Red and black.

Burning.

Hot.

Anger.   

Fear?    

Ah, he should at least have asked Pidge for fire safety goggles. Wait, it should be Coran. He always asked these things from Coran.

“Get away from Pidge and Shiroo!”

Water, which he felt came two seconds too late.

And hot steam enveloped the room.

“You okay?” When Shiro finally cracked open his eyes in surprise- he was at least seventy percent sure his eyes had been fried crisp- he saw Pidge squatting above him. Despite having her hair in places and soot covering her face, she remained indifferent. He coughed, feeling the heavy scent of smoke clogged in his windpipes.

“Yeah.” He rasped. “I’m fine.”

“As expected of the Garrison.” She chuckled, seemingly pleased. “Lance handled the situation well. Honestly, I didn’t expect him to follow us on the pipes. Also, I didn’t expect that to be quite violent.”

Pidge then looked mildly annoyed, as if it was… another thing to be slightly annoyed at, like one of her rare miscalculations and not having a whirlwind of flames in their faces.

Shiro raised an eyebrow. Really now?

“Perhaps one’s sense of danger would have wane after being in Voltron for so long.” She reasoned.

He wearily raised his eyes to the scene unfolding in front of him. There was a lot of thrashing and crashing around.

“GET OFF ME!” An unfamiliar shrill.

“Noo, you get off meee!”

“Shiro, can you get them off each other?” Pidge asked. “Fire creatures are not a big fan of water. Likewise, water creatures don’t exactly sync well with fire.”

“Alright.” Shiro said. He was totally only going to get Lance off.

Hoisting the Leviathan as careful as he could away from thrashing creature- Shiro winced mentally when he did that, Lance already had all his scales and claws out, sharper than steel and he prayed the angry water creature would not cut him by accident- Shiro finally caught sight of flaming feathers in a variety of red, orange and black.

A young bird(?)-boy hunched in the corner of the room, fury evident in his dark eyes. His wings were clumped together, feathers slightly puffed though they were all iced at the tips- Lance must have casted a round of magic on him after all- and his hair and clothes drenched.

“A harpy?” The words accidentally slipped out from his mouth. Considering that creature had wings attached to where the arms were supposed to be, he really did seem like those half-bird, half-female mountain dwelling creatures.  

“I am not a harpy.” He hissed immediately.

Before Shiro could give a reply, he was interrupted.

“I am an Ifrit, far from those bird creatures and don’t you dare come close, _human._ ” He raised his talons which Shiro saw was embedded in his wings.

He then gulped. The way the creature mentioned “human” sounded as if he was actually spitting venom at him.

“Well Shiro, orientation’s week over. This is your actual first task as an employee of Voltron.” Pidge announced at the back. “This Ifrit is your charge. Keith is his given name.”

Shiro felt Keith narrowing his gaze on him, like burning knives and he thought of all the fire and hell. Somewhere in his fogged head, he also heard Lance mumbling something and he vaguely realised he still had the creature in hand. Yet it felt as if the announcement had knocked his world into a standstill and he cannot seem to get his limbs to move.

All in his head, the familiar statement.  

He really should have known better!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How Voltron is designed is that they have thick clear pipes running through certain rooms for Lance to travel about. Lance doesn't usually move around, but today, he has been especially curious about making a new friend. Lance is actually quite friendly. His initial coldness was because Matt left but now that he's all warmed up to Shiro, he's better.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes  
> 1\. Pip is the Alpha guard dog of Shiro's battalion. He was known to have quite a character. One story states he bit off a finger of a new recruit who tried to pet him...  
> 2\. Lance tends to slur on his words and speaks in varying tones as he is not used to using voice projection. That being said, he is just a dragon pup. 
> 
> So I was thinking, what if Shiro was a new recruit and everyone was his mentor instead? And this story came up. I like the subversion of how Katie is guiding Shiro now haha.  
> Do note some parts explaining habits of mythical creatures are highly inaccurate.


End file.
